Dust on Every Page
by MirrorShard
Summary: Bonnie has never been much of a Team Vampire kinda girl. Kol Mikaelson, arrogant psychopath extraordinaire, certainly isn't going to change that. Much. Kennett
1. Made of Greed

**Note:** Just a small two/maybe three shot because I was in the mood (damn that holiday spirit). Enjoy and Happy Easter everybody!

**Pairing:** Kol/Bonnie

**Disclaimer:** I only own the plot. The lyrics in this chapter are from Demons by Imagine Dragons.

**Information:** AU from the fourth season finale.

**English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistake in advance.**

* * *

**|Dust on Every Page.|**

_by Schlangenkind_

* * *

**|| Part One: Made of Greed ||**

* * *

_Expression is the manifestation of your will. You could do anything._

_— _Sheila Bennett

* * *

_When your dreams all fail_

She looks him in the eye even though she shouldn't and she doesn't regret it even as she sees the realization dawning on his face. Maybe he reads the truth in the tears she isn't allowed to cry or in the way her fists are clenched so tightly by her side her knuckles are turning white in an effort to hold herself together. It doesn't really matter how, she supposes. All that matters is that he knows.

_She is not going to let him go back._

_And the ones we hail_

_Are the worst of all_

There is a flash of pure rage, the first glimmer of fear quickly overwhelmed by a strong sense of betrayal. She admires his emotions, wild and untamed and terrifyingly _alive_ like everything else about him, and perhaps that's what makes her fear him even more. Because even in death his flame burns brightly like a beacon light meant to be seen for miles to no end and she can't help but feel drawn to him. Can't help but be impressed by the strength of his mere presence no matter how dark his soul may be.

For as long as she has known him he has done nothing but antagonize her, frustrate her, threaten, trick and challenge her. Never has he shown her any weakness but more importantly never has he allowed her to be weak. He has always been there, watching her and waiting for her to stumble so he can use her mistakes against her. And though Bonnie won't—can't—admit it outright his presence is the one thing that has forced her to keep going, to keep fighting because defeat has never been an option.

He has been reliable, not because he isn't dangerous but because she knows his agenda. He has never made a secret out of what he wants from her after all. He's a lot more likely to threaten her life, the lives of her friends and even the entire town with one of his crazy, improvised schemes that will definitely blow up in somebody's face—it's always just a matter of whom. Subtle isn't exactly Kol's style.

_Look into my eyes_

_It's where my demons hide_

Her breath becomes labored as she watches his façade crumble in front of her and it shocks her how deep his wounded look truly strikes her. She flinches back instinctively, trying to shield herself from him or perhaps from herself. She doesn't remember when she started protecting herself with the same mask she has seen on her enemy's face every day but then lately she doesn't seem to remember a lot of things.

There is a horrified desperation in his eyes and she finds herself unable to look away, captivated by the way the raw emotion twists his face into an alien grimace—an expression she recognizes. An expression she has seen before.

And suddenly she doesn't see him anymore. She sees his older brother and the pained, blue eyes that have haunted her in her nightmares far more often than she cares to admit. Sees a broken man forced to watch his younger sibling being killed, murdered in cold blood by an enemy nobody had expected to strike. Unable to do anything. Unable to help. Unable to take back meaningless words spoken in anger and ignorance. Unable to make up for too much lost time.

More than anything she sees herself. Sees herself clearly for perhaps the first time since she has first met Professor Shane. She sees the woman she has become. A woman willing to torture her own mother. A woman blinded by her anger towards friends and enemies alike. A woman that doesn't hesitate to lock a grieving man into a house with the body of his recently deceased brother.

She wants to laugh out loud but the sound gets lost somewhere in her throat and her eyes are burning with unshed tears.

_He isn't even surprised_. The realization is almost unbearable. _He always knew. He never expected me to help him_.

Tears are blurring her vision suddenly because really what has happened to her, to them, to everything she once believed in? When in her desperate quest to destroy the demons that have controlled her for so long has she become the monster she once despised? When has she become the villain of the story, the one who's word can't be trusted and who's intent has to be always questioned? And why can't she stop, not even now as her head finally clears for the first time in months and everything she does tears her further apart from the inside out?

_But with the beast inside_

_There's nowhere we can hide_

She backs away from him, the distance between them suddenly far too small for her comfort, and there is the soft, tickling sensation on her fingertips she always feels when she reaches out towards the power inside her. She isn't sure what she's going to do but the call for her magic feels natural and the familiar rush is all the encouragement she needs. Closing her eyes she concentrates on drawing more and more power from her surroundings until she feels the hair on the back of her neck standing up, hears the musical humming of the energy in the air surrounding her.

A small voice in the back of her head tells her to stop—or perhaps that's Kol shouting at her—but she doesn't. She can't. She won't.

Instead she allows the air to heat up until it thickens around her like a comfortable blanket wrapped a bit too tight around her body. The tickling vibe spreads across her arms and legs until it centers around her chest and turns into a oppressive and definitely uncomfortable ache. Her heart beats erratically against her rib cage and she can almost feel the blood rushing through her veins beginning to slow down, slower and slower and _too slow_, as it agglutinates faster than ever before.

Sickening black lines appear on her fingertips like grotesque viral tattoos that quickly spread along her hands and arms into the direction of her heart. She watches them transfixed but at the same time strangely detached even as the needling pain on the inside of her temple gains intensity. _There's a curious beauty in self-destructive power_, she thinks before a new wave of simple pain blocks any rational thought she might have left at this point.

The world shifts in and out of focus for a moment and perhaps she sways or perhaps the earth gives out beneath her feet as every cell of her body screams in pain. What must have been blood once feels now like liquid fire burning her body from the inside out as breathing becomes impossible and all there's left to swallow is her own blood.

But she doesn't stop. It is still not enough. _Until it is_.

_Your eyes, they shine so bright_

She blinks the tears away, almost instinctively searching him out in this chaotic world that fades from reality far too quickly. Somehow she finds the strength to hold his gaze—just for a moment—as the ground shakes and dust dances in the air and the walls around them crumble like a lovingly crafted sand castle in the face of the unforgiving flood. He screams uselessly against the noise, trying desperately to reach out to her, perhaps —probably— in a vain attempt to snap her neck and end this horror story once and for all but he can't reach her and she can't hear him and she likes to believe she is glad she doesn't.

_It needs to be done._

She doesn't avert her eyes although she knows it would make this easier and she opens her mouth to tell him—just this once because it won't matter now (even though they both know it does)—but all her body manages is a wordless sound of anguish as her heart struggles to take another beat.

_I am sorry_.

_I want to save their light_

Then as suddenly as the mayhem erupted everything stills again. For a brief moment it is silent as though the world itself is waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the enemy to attack, for the tiger to jump. She looks at him, her gaze tracing his familiar features, the slight tilt of his chin that gives him a cocky air even now, as her arms shake from the effort of holding all the power —too much power— in and building it up _just a little bit more_ and strangely his arrogance in the face of certain destruction makes her want to smile.

So she does.

(Allows herself this last, small gesture. Allows herself a moment of contemplation. Allows herself to regret. Allows herself to wish.)

_I want._

Then she lets go.

_I can't escape this now_

_Unless you show me how_

* * *

The second part will be up tomorrow or on Monday at the latest. I hope you like it!

Love, Schlange


	2. Shadow of a Ghost

**Note:** This is a little bit serious, a little bit crack fic, a little bit angsty and in a creepy way kinda sweet. Personally I found the ball scene hilarious and it probably shows but I blame it on my current sugar high. Anyway, have fun!

**Pairing:** Kol/Bonnie

**Disclaimer:** I only own the plot. The lyrics in this chapter are from Outlines by All Time Low.

**Information:** AU from the fourth season finale but plays mostly during S0314 Dangerous Liaisons.

**English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistake in advance.**

* * *

**|Dust on Every Page.|**

_by Schlangenkind_

* * *

**|| Part Two: Shadow of a Ghost ||**

* * *

_I'll take that as a challenge._

— Klaus Mikaelson

* * *

_I'm half remembered, half way across the world_

* * *

Something is wrong.

Bonnie can feel the turmoil in the air, can taste the lurking danger on her tongue. And she knows with a certainty that borders on disturbing that everything has changed, everything is different. Just different, not better.

Her magic is brimming inside her, restlessly. Tasting, searching, reaching out and reconnecting. There is peace and balance and then there is a foreboding feeling that makes her skin crawl and sends uneasy shivers down her back. Because she can feel _it_.

There has been a shift in the fabric of reality itself. Like the entire matrix has been rewritten overnight. The world might as well come to an end today for all she knows. (_Again_)

And to make matters worse she can't seem to find the snooze button on her alarm clock.

It's just gonna be one of those days.

* * *

_Twice removed from a second home_

* * *

It's half past ten by the time Bonnie finally rolls out of bed. She figures dropping the veil to the Other Side and pulling it up again has earned her the right to sleep in for once. Fifteen text messages and nine missed calls say her friends think differently.

She wants to roll her eyes because, _really, how important could it possibly be?_ but this is Mystic Falls she's talking about so it's most likely another life or death situation she needs to defuse. It's probably not a good thing that she's so blasé about the whole thing but with the frequency she or her friends fight for their lives who could blame her? Their worries and problems have become strangely repetitive over the past two years. Somehow there's always this big bad guy out to get Elena (and anyone else by association) and they try to protect her, fights ensue, people die and then a new, even worse big bad guy pops up and everything starts all over again.

Needless to say when Bonnie finally pushes her cereal aside in defeat and picks up her handy to find out what had happened this time she expected something along the lines of '_There are dead people walking around all over the town so whatever you did, Judgy, clearly it didn't work. Get over here and fix it, now!_' or '_You know how we thought burying Silas in a tank at the bottom of a lake? Well turns out that wasn't exactly a true-immortal-safe prison choice_' or maybe even '_Yeah, about Silas, turns out he was really just the first son of the One Creator who happens to be slightly pissed off about the whole let's-trap-Silas thingy and by the way has a really bad fashion style—I mean, cuffs? Seriously?—and he kinda wants to kill us all off, on the day of Travis' party no less, can you believe it?_'

You know, that sort of thing.

What she definitely doesn't expect is a (_okay_ seven) voicemail from a hysterical Caroline (yep, that part isn't exactly surprising either) to meet her at the Grill right about yesterday because big-bad-but-not-biggest-and-baddest Klaus the Hybrid _kinda, sorta asked her out and OMG Damon is so going to kill her_.

Furrowing her brow she goes through the other messages, all of them essentially demanding to meet Caroline at the Grill in half an hour (Sure Klaus has this creepy, stalker interest in her, what else is new?), Damon demanding she'll lock Elena into her house again (Because that worked out so well the last time), Elena telling her not to listen to anything Damon says (Nothing new there, seriously how did they ever end up together even with the sire bond?) and curiously one from Jeremy (Who's pretty dead last time she checked) saying he misses her like crazy but it's nice to worry about baseball instead of which vampire is going to off his sister next.

Admittedly none of these texts predicts the impending apocalypse but that's precisely what worries Bonnie the most. They are almost normal or as normal as possible considering the lives they lead. But they aren't _supposed_ to be. Yesterday they were faced with all the people that died over the last two years (which are unfortunately a lot) and all it takes is one night for everyone to get over it and move on? And _what the hell_ is Jeremy doing in the sphere of the living, and in Denver at that?

It's this last thought that jolts a memory from another time, a time when Jeremy lived, a time when she despised Elena for taking his free will away, a time when the worst enemy they knew had still been Niklaus Mikaelson. That had been not even half a year ago and yet those moments feel so far away, almost unreachable. She can scarcely remember the girl she has been back then, the young witch that has been constantly pushed around by friend and foe alike and always paid the price for another's mistake. Yet that girl she can no longer identify herself with has also been lighter, happier even. And for a moment Bonnie wonders when exactly she lost that girl.

Then she pushes those contemplations aside like she always does and instead concentrates on the taste of wrongness still lingering on her tongue. She can't pinpoint for certain what it is that causes her senses to go haywire and the last remains of the sweet child she once was don't really want to find out. But that part of her is weak and has become weaker with every person she lost and every time she delved a step farther into almost unknown magics so it's easy to push it aside.

Slipping into her jacket she grabs her keys and purse, ready to go to the Grill although her mind is still occupied with the strange sensations her magic is picking up. But she'll solve the riddle eventually and whatever it is it certainly isn't worth evoking the wrath of Caroline. Shuddering a little despite herself she quickly locks the door and turns around intent on walking towards her car only to freeze in her steps.

_It's cold_, she notices and though the observation is simple her mind struggles to accept the information. Because she lives in Virginia for God's sake and if there is one thing summer in Mystic Falls isn't it's _cold_. She shivers, instinctively hugging herself for added warmth, as she gazes around wide-eyed, disbelievingly taking in her surroundings. This is _her_ house, _her_ street, _her_ neighborhood and yet it definitely _isn't_. Bonnie swallows hard. Maybe sleeping in hasn't been the best idea after all.

* * *

_The shadow of a ghost in an old haunt_

* * *

By the time she reaches the Grill the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach has turned into a pulsing ache and thoughts are spinning so fast in her head it's a miracle she hasn't crashed her car. Instead she stumbles into the welcoming warmth of her favorite bar and greets Matt with a soft smile only barely suppressing the urge to order a tequila shot _or ten_ because maybe all she needs is a bit of alcohol in her bloodstream for the world to make sense again. Said hope is quickly dispelled when she notices Caroline waving wildly at her from a table in the corner furthest away from the door.

Something in the way her beloved friend smiles at her even though her eyes are a little too dark to match her cheerful expression triggers something in Bonnie's memory. It's the serious, unsure look Caroline is trying her best to conceal (Though she's failing. _Badly_.). It's the beautiful shirt she's wearing that Bonnie remembers so well because her friend couldn't decide whether to buy it in blue or in red until Elena finally lost her cool and told her to take the green one because it complimented her skin tone and she had too many blue clothes anyway. This isn't the first time Caroline has worn the shirt but something about the dark blue jeans and the black flats she paired it with and the way she clings to a glass of what looks like Coke and is definitely a lot more alcoholic strikes Bonnie as incredible familiar.

Like she has seen it before already.

"We have a problem" Caroline says gravely and Bonnie gestures for Matt to get her something of whatever it is her best friend is drinking because just one look at the blonde's face tells her she'll definitely need it.

The elegant invitation to the Mikaelson family ball resting innocently on the table is a big clue too.

* * *

_Half the time, I'm a world away_

* * *

She thinks of time travel first.

Maybe it's because she has watched too many science fiction movies or maybe because after vampires, witches, werewolves, hybrids and doppelgängers waking up in the past doesn't sound half as insane as she once thought it would.

But her Gram's lessons are still fresh on her mind even after all this time and if there's one thing she knows for sure it's that time travel is impossible. She has lost count of how often she's cursed the fact but even magic such as her's has its limits. And really time travel is a funky business anyway. Technically you can go back in time and change the past—save somebody's life for example—but if said person never dies you won't have any reason to go back and save them in the first place and so you never do and they still die. A time travel paradox, her Gram's used to call it. Bonnie has always just accepted the explanation at face value. Thinking about it too long or too deeply made her head hurt.

Suffice to say whatever problem you may face, time travel is and never will be the correct answer. No matter a witch's power or determination. And perhaps that's a good thing. Bonnie doesn't remember much from the movie _Back to the Future_ but doesn't some kid mess up its parents' past and almost eradicates its own existence? _So not_ what she wants to worry about right now.

* * *

_A flicker of a soul casting silhouettes_

* * *

Caroline has been ranting for almost half an hour by now and she absent-mindedly wonders if vampires even need to breathe or if they only do it out of habit. It would certainly explain a lot. But to Bonnie who has spent the last couple of months agonizing over the creepy and potentially either very useful or very dangerous crush Klaus has on her best friend Caroline's turmoil is almost comical.

She remembers how worried she was when this happened for the first time but for some reason she finds herself unable to feel the same sense of alarm and paranoia she used to. If this is indeed a strange scheme from their favorite nemesis it is one of the most elaborated, long-term plans she has ever seen. And if there's one thing she has learned it's that they won't see it coming anyways they'll just have to improvise. They always do and so far they've survived. _For the most part_.

Besides things are different now. Now she's acutely aware that there are worse things than Klaus out there. Hell, she has fought worse things than him. He isn't the invincible hybrid anymore, not in her mind at least, and more importantly he isn't the ultimate villain. Perhaps the realization shouldn't make much of a difference because despite everything she has seen Bonnie isn't naive and she knows how dangerous the man still is in his own right but she can't help but look at the situation with different eyes.

_Or maybe_, she contemplates and mindlessly traces a mark on the table where some guy as carved the date 08/03/09 into the wood,_ she isn't as emotionally involved in the happenings around her because she already knows what's going to happen_. She already knows that Rebecca is going to invite Matt to the Ball and that Elena is going to turn up against Damon's explicit wishes and that Esther is going to try and fail to kill her own children. Just like her darling husband did. (It's no wonder all of them have turned into psychotic mass-murderers, really. They've learned it from the best after all.)

Knowing how everything is going to turn out, having already seen it, already lived through it drains any excitement or suspense from her body, leaving her strangely empty. _Is this how it feels to live a thousand years?_ she can't help but wonder. _Like you have already seen everything, already done everything and nothing can ever really surprise you?_ It's not the same, she knows, because though the Originals have seen many centuries they have never lived the same life twice. And yet for the first time she feels like she can relate to these creatures she both respects and despises because here she is, living a moment already passed, and already she notices the changes in herself, in the way she evaluates the events taking place around her.

But watching Caroline gesturing wildly in her attempt to prove her point _because how dare this stupid Klaus-guy do something as un-villainy as buying her a dress—and a beautiful one at that because, seriously, a guy isn't supposed to know what color looks great on you except if he's gay—instead of doing something perfectly acceptable like kicking puppies or drowning kittens or something, you know, like any half-decent serial killer would _it is the emotional detachment that worries her the most. The warning tingling of her magic senses has slowly disappeared over the last two hours and it resolves some of the tension in her muscles.

She cocks her head to the side and tries to remember how the girl she used to be at this point in time would have reacted, how she did react to everything Caroline is currently telling her. But it's hard because no matter how familiar this whole situation is the Bonnie she was is almost a complete stranger. Time has changed her, experiences have defined her and maybe the dark magic she has used so freely has left its own imprint on her after all.

It doesn't really matter, she finally decides. It doesn't really matter who she was or how these things went because frankly all this drama has already happened. It's in the past and the past can't be changed. The girl she used to be is gone, has been gone for a long time but she's still here, wherever _here_ is. And she still cares for her friends and the world and herself, just maybe not as much, maybe not really, maybe not enough. But she _does_ and because she cares she does what the other her most definitely didn't do—wouldn't have done—just because she can. (_Because she wants to._)

"You should go" she tells her and maybe her lips twitch the slightest bit when Caroline promptly chokes on her drink.

* * *

_On the face of a town that could not get me to stay_

* * *

"And I definitely can't show up without a date!" Caroline prattles on in her usual dramatic way. Bonnie stares down at her glass. It's empty. "I mean this is like the first real ball in forever that might not end with psychotic murderers crashing it and killing everyone in sight if only because all the psychotic murderers we know are already gonna be there but still. It's gonna be huge, the whole town's been invited and it would just look pathetic-"

Bonnie frowns. _I wasn't_ she wants to say but thinks better of it. She isn't sure if her deciding lack of invitation bothers her or not. She isn't sure if it's supposed to.

"I'll be your date" she says instead and immediately regrets it as her rips are almost crushed by a hyperactive, blonde killer-cheerleader with a smile so bright it almost hurts her eyes. She gasps for air and rubs her ears which are still ringing from Caroline's happy squeal and she can't help but smile at her friends enthusiasm.

It's a foreign feeling.

* * *

_And when the spark's gone_

* * *

She doesn't have an appropriate dress but she doesn't need one either. She is Caroline's date after all so she pulls out the suit she bought weeks ago as a joke—a sexy joke but a joke nonetheless— and pins her hair up in a way that takes her hours and choses her favorite lip stick because damn if she isn't gonna be the hottest, uninvited 'male' on that stupid Originals ball.

Appraising herself in the mirror Bonnie nods resolutely. She looks great and she's going to stand out but that thought doesn't make her as uncomfortable as it used to. She has spent too many weeks being controlled by her magic and that bastard Shane and the disgusting Silas himself and it feels so _damn good_ to do something just because she can, because this is her body and her decision and nobody's going to stop her.

It's probably going to piss off a couple of Originals too but that's really just an added bonus.

* * *

_Former lovers just looking for a bus to throw me under_

* * *

She thinks it might be a dream next.

It's too real and the sensations too intense to be a natural dream of course—though she could have gone without burning her tongue on a fresh cup of coffee to realize that little titbit—but she lives in a supernatural world where things like dream control, spells to evoke hallucinations and illusion magic are not only possible but entirely common.

Truth be told she can't eliminate the possibility with absolute certainty because if someone is currently messing with her head she most likely won't know til they reveal themselves. Nevertheless it is pretty unlikely considering she can move around freely, has full control over her thoughts and actions (as far as she can tell) and there is nothing unusual or remarkable about the things she sees. Besides the fact that they already happened of course. But time isn't going strangely fast or slow, people react to her and interact with her and everybody she meets stays in character.

Which leads Bonnie to the conclusion that whatever it is that is wrong with her it has probably nothing to do with her various supernatural enemies.

She isn't sure whether that's good news or not.

* * *

_When being young starts getting old_

* * *

Caroline is the first to meet her, in the driveway of the Mikaelson Mansion, and she can't stop giggling all the way to the front door because _obviously_ Bonnie literally playing her date is the most hilarious thing since that night they painted a slightly knocked out Damon's nails pink (Alright, they broke his neck for that one but it's not like it killed him).

But hidden behind the soft laughter and twinkling, blue eyes there's _that look_ and Bonnie almost looks away but doesn't. Caroline smiles at her, a smile that has lost some of its glamour but none of its honesty, and she knows she has impressed her friend.

That's a good sign. It has to be.

* * *

_A new place saves face or so I'm told_

* * *

Bonnie isn't going to lie—no matter how much the truth hurts—the ball is fabulous. She can't believe she hasn't crashed the party the first time around. Sure, Elena and Caroline described everything to her later on but their focus was more on Esther's evil master plan and Damon's usual idiocy or Rebecca's flirtation with Matt and his subsequent broken hand respectively. Not that any description would have done this place justice. Furrowing her brow Bonnie tries to decide whether she and the real Klaus are _frenemish_ enough for him to agree to redecorate her home—without getting invited in of course.

_Probably not_, she concludes after a moment and can't quite stop the pout forming on her lips. But if he ever needs a favor that doesn't involve her friends dead or complete world domination perhaps they can make a deal.

"Do you see Elena anywhere?" Caroline's voice breaks her out of her thoughts and she looks around curiously, wondering when her brunette friend and her two boy toys are going to make their entrance. There's a fleeting thought of worry for her before she reminds herself that Elena will be fine. Neither Esther nor Finn would dream of actually harming her beyond taking some of her blood. She'll be alright and definitely not in need of a witch-bodyguard, not when she already has Damon and Stefan on her case.

"No" she answers quietly, still observing the crowd. She doesn't know whom she's searching for until she spots Rebecca a few steps away from the main room, a familiar shape by her side. An approaching figure breaks her concentration before her staring becomes obvious and Bonnie turns around, meeting the sharp gaze of Niklaus Mikaelson unflinchingly. She observes silently as he takes her appearance in before his attention turns to Caroline and she knows he won't acknowledge her at all. Whether it is an insult or an unspoken peace offering for this one night she isn't sure but figures it doesn't really matter.

For a moment she simply watches her sweet, sharp-tongued friend banter with the deranged hybrid. His surprising fascination with Caroline has always confounded her. It's not that Care isn't a beautiful person inside and out or that she doesn't deserve (and has) her fair share of admirers it's just that Klaus has lived for centuries and must have known many beautiful, gentle, sweet or temperamental women. He is intelligent enough to recognize his attraction as a weakness, especially here in Mystic Falls, and yet he doesn't lash out against any of them. Personally Bonnie thinks it doesn't make much sense but she doesn't even have a psychological degree so what does she really know about a thousand year old's half-vampire, half-werewolf's psyche?

Shaking her head slightly at herself in exasperation Bonnie turns away from the bickering pair, their little spat having already lost most of its entertainment value, and searches for the bar, intent on testing Damon's theory that the whole world makes a lot more sense if you're too drunk to remember your name. (She figures even if it doesn't work she'll be too drunk to notice so it's a win-win situation.)

* * *

_Be the new kid, on an old block_

* * *

The bartender's name is Gavin.

It's a nice name. It doesn't remind her of all the people regularly dropping dead around here.

She tells him that.

Gavin doesn't seem to appreciate the sentiment.

* * *

_A chalk outline on a playground blacktop_

* * *

She is sipping on her third drink and contentedly watching Elena and Damon bickering from afar when a sudden realization jolts her into an upright position. She, Bonnie Bennett, is here, at a ball the Original vampire family is throwing. She is _here_ even though she wasn't the first time around (which is of course the entire point of her presence it's not like she invited herself along for the company or anything) and for the first time her slightly inebriated mind considers the possible implications. Implifications she should have already thought of hours ago.

While she may know exactly what events are taking place around her and will take place in the future she isn't bound to her past actions. She is living in the present like every other being on this world even if the lines between past, present and future have become blurred for her. As such she can act. She can warn her friends. She can change the way things go the way she already has by coming to the ball she wasn't supposed to. Her mind is whirling with this (quite frankly rather obvious) discovery, trying to take in all the possibilities that have suddenly revealed themselves to her. Names of all the people she can save flash before her inner eye and suddenly her knowledge is a curse, a responsibility so heavy it might just crush her.

Taking a deep breath and a large gulp of whatever drink Gavin has served her this time Bonnie tries to calm her racing thoughts and remain level-headed.

What she knows for sure is that this place, this Mystic Falls she has woken up in is exactly the same Mystic Falls she remembers from half a year ago. She is also reasonably certain after having carefully observed the world around her this whole day that everything is taking place how she remembers it with the only aberrations being caused by her own actions. What she doesn't know on the other hand is where exactly she is in relation to the home she has left behind, how she got here and who or what has caused all of this. But seeing as there is no quick or easy way to gain the answers she desperately wants her own conclusions will have to do for now.

Feeling her heart rate slowly decrease to an almost healthy pace Bonnie allows herself the pleasure of draining her latest drink before she carefully detaches herself from the bar, well-aware of the alcohol in her bloodstream. But if there is one thing she wants to find out as fast as possible it is if she is able to change major events as well or if the world is bound to a certain destiny that can not be altered and will always come true one way or another. (In the back of her head Bonnie acknowledges that she may want to cut back on the fantasy books she enjoys reading so much—it can't be healthy to know that many ways how a sort-of-but-not-really-time-travel journey can turn out.)

Well, there's no time like the present to mess up Momma Original's evil plan to _unite and conquer_ so to speak. (It's not like it would work out anyway, so there's no harm in tweaking the circumstances a little bit is there?)

Though the insane hybrid and his equally bat-shit crazy siblings can wait until she's finished another cocktail. Because there's nothing quite like being dressed-up in a suit in between all the frilly dresses the female members of the holy Founding Families are wearing while sipping a Bloody Mary in a ball room filled with demented, blood-sucking maniacs.

Smirking she wonders if Stefan's lunatic ripper persona would appreciate her humor.

* * *

_I'm just a moment_

* * *

Running into Kol Mikealson isn't entirely surprising. The ball is hosted by his family after all. She's spotted him once before by his sister's side but otherwise the youngest Mikaelson male has managed to evade her easily—of course she has spent the majority of her evening thus far hiding away at the bar and drinking herself into oblivion in hopes of getting her thoughts to shut the hell up. (Which, by the way, doesn't work at all. _Fuck Damon_, she's never going to listen to his advice ever again and can't figure out why she did in the first place.)

In true Kol-fashion he suddenly materializes out of nowhere and just happens to stand in her way about half a second after she decides to go searching for his brother. Because he's a nuisance like that.

Bonnie can't really remember how their actual first meeting went. She had been far too busy with Esther's plan, Abby's kind-of-death and all the usual drama to care much about the other Mikaelsons in town the first time around. They were all just there, a presence she was aware of in the back of her mind but never consciously focused on. In fact although she's pretty sure she's seen Kol around a few times until the whole Silas debacle she can't remember ever personally interacting with the youngest of Klaus' brothers.

Still she's pretty damn sure their first meeting this time around differs vastly from the last one. If only because she doubts she would have forgotten that she was making out with him in plain sight of not only his messed-up family but also her (probably fainting) friends. It's not exactly the kind of thing that slips your mind.

* * *

_So don't let me pass you by_

* * *

"Well, well, don't you look … _manly_, darling."

Bonnie almost rolls her eyes at the all too familiar prick blocking her path, his characteristic arrogant smirk playing on his lips. Perhaps the only surprise is that Kol is actually the first one to comment on her unusual attire.

"It's a shame I can't say the same thing about you" she retorts sharply. "But don't you worry, _darling_, nowadays it is a lot more socially acceptable for a man to be—how do they put it?—_in touch with his feminine side_."

She has chosen a tone that's three inches away from being sincere, yet a smidge too polite to be considered outright mocking. It's a tone she has perfected over the last few months of constant banter with the Other-Side-Kol and one that she knows from experience he absolutely despises.

Predictably there's a flash in his darkening eyes though the slow upturn of his lips catches her by surprise. This time the smirk he sends her is a little more _threat_ but it's also so much more honest than the sickly sweet one from before. Bonnie isn't stupid. She feels the dangerous vibes the deceptively young looking creature before her emits from every pore of his body and yet despite herself she relaxes because this is familiar territory, this she has done before.

"Quite the little spitfire, aren't you?" He grins and she's almost certain his amusement is real.

"I've been told I have a way with flames."

"Don't you know what they say about playing with fire?" he asks with a child-like curiosity. It sounds like a warning, so Bonnie isn't sure why all she hears is an invitation. She especially isn't sure why she accepts it without hesitation.

"Oh, honey" she whispers stepping even closer until she can feel the warmth of his breath on her face. "I _am_ the fire." The candles all over the room flicker for just a fraction of a second but neither of them pays much attention, both locked in each other's gaze, unwilling to look away first.

Kol tilts his head to the side, his eyes—darker than she's ever seen them—watching her with startling intensity. "Then perhaps we should _play_."

His soft murmur leaves her breathless and Bonnie is suddenly aware of her magic humming just beneath her skin, of the warmth of his body even through the layers of clothes they are both wearing. The tension in the air is tangible and it takes all her willpower to keep her body from outright trembling.

He steps back suddenly and just like that the moment is broken. She blinks, an ice-cold splash of reality trickling down her back and jolting her out of this strange haze as she remembers where she is and who he is and why this is a line they have never dared to cross. Wordlessly she watches as his head snaps up in reaction to something her human senses probably don't catch. His brow furrows, the only outward sign of his displeasure, but his features smooth out again before she can even open her mouth to call him out on it. If she didn't know better she'd chalk it up to her imagination. But fact is she _does_ know better and this really isn't the time to start an affair with the enemy. Not when she has to warn Klaus and an Original Witch to mess with.

As though guessing what she's thinking Kol reaches out and catches her hand before she has the chance to sidestep him (the way she should have done from the beginning). His touch sends a spark up her arm and she freezes because _god, this feels incredible_ and _god, she hates him for it_.

"Dance with me" he demands and it irks her, the way he doesn't even asks but simply tells.

Squaring her shoulders she rips her hand from his because she has already been the slave of one obsessive immortal and she's not going to replace him with an equally insane original vampire, thank you very much.

"I already have a date and, frankly, I'm sure she looks a lot better in a blue dress than you ever could."

She turns around intent on finding Klaus when a movement on the stairs catches her attention. Esther. Of course. She can't believe she's missed the glasses of champagne being passed around by the waiters nor how much time she's truly wasted by getting drunk in a stupid corner. She suppresses a hysterical laugh because she can't believe that she's living in the fucking past and _still_ time's running out on her. _Oh, the irony_.

Desperately searching through the crowd her gaze accidentally meets Elena's warm, brown eyes. The two friends stare at each other, separated by a mass of people and yet never closer than in this moment as Bonnie watches her best friend's sorrow as she turns her attention back to Elijah. _Elijah_.

Bonnie whirls around. How could she be so stupid? She doesn't need Klaus and she certainly doesn't need Elijah. She just needs _one_ of them.

Well aware of the lull in conversations around her as Esther begins her _heartfelt_ speech and Finn's watchful presence somewhere in the crowd (although he is probably more focused on Elena but she won't complain about that) she meets Kol's gaze once again and takes one—quite possibly her last—deep breath to calm her racing heart.

_Time to take one for the team_.

Stalking towards him determinedly like a woman on a mission (she is) Bonnie grabs his perfectly wrinkle-free white shirt, yanks him down to her and meets his lips in a heated kiss.

If Kol is surprised by the sudden turn of events he hides it well. He makes no move to push her away like she half-expects him to—of course this is _Kol_ they're talking about—instead he puts his arms around her to pull her even closer to him and kisses her back with a fervor that has her cling to him helplessly as her magic rises closer to the surface and her surroundings disappear in a haze of _touch_ and _warmth_ and _power_. She moans softly as her tongue dances with his and buries her hands in his dark locks, determined to ruin his too perfectly styled hair as much as possible as he nips her bottom lip sharply in revenge.

Their kiss isn't gentle or loving but somehow it's everything Bonnie wants it to be. It's hard and passionate and almost violent and all-consuming. It's intense and supernatural and so much more than her human body can really take. It's _Kol _and she doesn't pull back although her lungs scream for air because her magic is dancing and her senses are on fire and she holds on even tighter. This is _wrong_ and it makes it so much _better_.

He pulls back for a moment but she still holds his head between her palms and refuses to let go, refuses to shy away from his blackening eyes. Their lips meet again before she has the chance to catch her breath and this time she doesn't know if it's him or her who initiates it but as his hands slide down her waist to settle on her hips she really can't bring herself to care.

This kiss is a little calmer though no less intense and it allows Bonnie to gather enough of her scattered thoughts to remember what she has come here for. Calling upon her magic is almost too easy when the energy is already brimming with excitement in every part of her body, ready to come to live and bend itself to her every command. There's the usual tingling sensation in the tip of her fingers and she feels Kol stiffen against her but he doesn't throw her through a nearby wall so she counts it as a success.

She presses her body against his, can't allow him to end the kiss (not because she's enjoying it of course but simply because this spell is so much easier the deeper the connection between two individuals). Maybe he understands or maybe he doesn't but their lips continue to move in an age-old dance, never once faltering, even as the magic seeps into his body and the pictures begin to flow.

_—doesn't want to rebuild their family—a ritual—needed my blood—linked—if one dies, they all do—in the champagne—came back to kill them all—_

They are no full memories, merely snippets, flashes, impressions of a conversation long since passed. But it's enough.

"_Bonnie_?!"

She pulls away from him slowly, searching his eyes for any sign of understanding but he has always been hard to read when he doesn't want to be. Still, she likes to think her message has been received. Satisfied that her magic is just as capable as she has expected it to be she turns around to face her gaping friends.

Honestly? Damon's face alone makes whatever it is that is wrong with her completely and utterly worth it. Why, _oh why_ didn't she do this the first time around? Not giving him any chance of making a scene she turns around and grabs two of the last glasses of champagne, offering one of them to Kol just as Esther raises her glass.

"Cheers" she clinks their glasses gently with a mirthless smile. The bubbly drink tastes strange on her tongue but perhaps that's just her imagination. Kol's burning stare on the other hand is very much real.

* * *

_We could be a story in the morning_

* * *

"You made out with Kol Mikaelson?!" Caroline shrieks in absolute disbelief while a wide-eyed, open-mouthed Elena tries her best to hush her—people are already staring, there's no need to give them even more of a show. Damon for once in his life is completely speechless (which Bonnie enjoys a little more than she probably should) and finally there's Stefan who is laughing so hard he doesn't even make a sound. _She knew there was a reason why she liked him_.

Finally Elena seems to regain her ability to speak.

"How was it?" she blurts out and immediately slaps a hand over her mouth like she can't believe she's actually said that. Stefan who just managed to calm down a little cracks up again.

"_Elena_!" Caroline yells exasperated. "That's _so not_ the point!"

Damon hasn't stopped gaping yet.

Bonnie casually surveys the crowd until she spots him in a corner with one of his brothers, smirking that infuriating smirk of his.

Shrugging nonchalantly she helps Stefan stand up from where he's lying curled up on the polished floor and brushes some non-existent dust from her suit coat. She arches an unimpressed eyebrow and smiles her sweetest smile as her attention flickers from her horrified friends to the two smirking originals whom she's sure can hear every word she says.

"I've had better."

* * *

_But we'll be a legend tonight_

* * *

She thinks she might have lost her mind.

It's certainly a reasonable explanation and after everything she has gone through in the last two years Bonnie figures it isn't entirely unexpected. After watching multiple people—humans, vampires and werewolves alike—being murdered, physically torturing and killing quite a few creatures herself, living under constant death threats, losing family and friends alike, dying, talking with dead people and becoming addicted to Expression Magic only to fall for the sick mind games of the first true immortal being she's allowed to be a little crazy, right? She's earned it.

And so what if all of this might not be real? For the first time in forever and a day she doesn't care if this is a trap, doesn't care what's happening to the friends she's left behind because she finally _feels_ something again and it might not be happiness or peace but it's there and it's enough. She isn't the girl she once was anymore, Bonnie knows that and she knows she can't go back to being that person. But being confronted with a world built on nothing but memories helps her remember the person she is now. The person she has become.

The person she hasn't even realized until now she had lost.

* * *

_And they can speak our names in a dead language_

* * *

He's standing on her front porch later that night. She leans against the doorway, keeping the door wide open but unwilling to step over the threshold. An invisible barrier so thin her senses can't even detect it the only thing that keeps them apart.

"Nik has told me quite a bit about you, you know. The infamous Bennett witch that almost succeeded in killing him …" His voice trails off as he observes her curiously.

She raises her eyebrow unapologetically. "You're welcome."

Perhaps it's a trick of light but she swears she sees his lips twitch. Then he shakes his head as if he can't believe he's really here (she can't either) and chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Oh, darling, this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"Friendship?" she echoes doubtfully. "Why would you want to be my friend? Better yet, why would I want to be your friend?"

"You'll find that it is exceedingly hard for most people to dislike me whether they may initially want to or not. As for you, you're a powerful witch and know how to use your magic. It helps that you pulled the wheel over my brother's eye, repeatedly tried to kill him and got away with it too—"

"You're insane."

"—then there's also that charming personality of yours" he smirks.

She sends him a glare that does nothing to impress him and wants nothing more than to reach out and slap him silly but at the last second thinks better of it. Perhaps she does have some sort of survival instinct after all. That stupid, self-assured smirk of his almost makes her reconsider though.

"It doesn't hurt that you're a tolerable kisser either" he winks and then he's gone.

* * *

_Cause you and I, we're alive_

* * *

He's sent her flowers.

She should be worrying about how Esther's planned sacrifice is going to turn out this time around or how exactly all of this is even possible or how she can get back to her old life. With narrowed eyes Bonnie glares at the arrangement on the table in front of her as though hoping it will catch fire if she just stares hard enough. There are so many things she has to think about but she can't concentrate and it's all_ his fault_.

_Kol Mikaelson has sent her flowers_.

The words sound just as ridiculous as they did the first time.

Granted it's a funeral arrangement and there's a card attached to it that says '_In case you've lied about my mother's intentions or your own these might come in handy in the near future_'. (Charming, isn't he?) But still they're flowers and beautiful ones at that.

They are freaking her the fuck out.

A freshly ripped-out heart she could handle. The body of his latest victim she'd deal with. But _flowers_?

How the hell is she supposed to explain this to Caroline?

* * *

_But just for a moment_

* * *

Tell me what you think! There will probably be a third and last part eventually, to explain some things like what actually happened to Bonnie etc but for the moment that is as good place as any to stop. Would you like to see some of Kol's thoughts in the next chapter or should it be only Bonnie?

Love, Schlange


End file.
